Page 17 of Silent Ties

Water streams down around him, but he hardly notices. I already know he could be in the middle of a hurricane and come across as unaffected. Coal eyes, even darker in the dim bathroom lighting, warily study me.

“You think I’m a spy.”

“Are you?” he asks back.

“I’m not Marissa’s spy.”

He places a large hand over mine, directing my hand to his raging erection.

“I’m not jerking you off just to get a trip to the doctor’s.”

Amusement lines his eyes.

“Seriously.”

He says nothing.

“Is this what it’s going to be like as your wife? Made into a sex toy and never taken seriously.”

He gently pushes a strand of brown hair off my face. “I don’t know. I take my sex toys pretty seriously.”

I shove his hand away, his eyes narrowing.

“I’m not a sex toy. I’m a twenty-six year old woman who’s tired of fighting to have her medical concerns taken seriously.”

He takes up most of the space under the spigot of water, my nipples peaking in the cold. Or maybe it’s due to how he openly stares at me.

“My brother thinks you’re a psychopath.”

I swallow. “What?”

“I admit, I’m inclined to agree. Why else would you help Marissa with this stupidly absurd plan?”

Their reaction to Marissa rattles me. While she’s gloating, thinking she’s gotten one over the Zimin’s, they act like she’s nothing but a gnat. This is just a funny chapter in a long drawn-out game.

Steam halos around him, the bastard nothing but a statue. A god made out of porcelain, his power radiating.

The complete opposite of the cold, wet, and confused girl in front of him.

“I owed Marissa a debt.” He’s too clever not to have figured it out by now, but I confirm it anyway.

“What for?”

I shake my head.

“Save us both the trouble and tell me.”

“You know Marissa.”

When she was eighteen, she married a small-time crook. The story went he was a weak, ugly man who beat the shit outof her. But while he puffed out his chest and acted like a rising star in the criminal world, Marissa waited for her chance. Bashed his head in, and took over his operations. Slowly, but steadily, she became a figure people couldn’t keep ignoring.

She’s not a woman’s woman. She’ll pimp you out and sell you off and do whatever helps her bottom line.

Don’t get mixed up in Marissa’s shit. It’s the cautionary rule in my neighborhood. One I kept to. But Daisy didn’t and now I’m here. On her behalf.

I’m sure they saw that stream of memes on my phone but I’ll be damned if the bratva gets close to her. If I’m going to keep her safe from Marissa then I’ll keep her safe from them too.

“So you really were just one of her whores.”

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